


Kinder

by Ias



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Banter, Barduil Week, Fluff, Grooming, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-29
Updated: 2015-12-29
Packaged: 2018-05-10 05:30:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 952
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5572714
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ias/pseuds/Ias
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Thranduil shows Bard a side of Mirkwood he hasn't seen before. Written for the prompt "on holiday".</p>
            </blockquote>





	Kinder

**Author's Note:**

> Cross-posted from tumblr (like 500 years after the actual barduil week sorry guys)

In Bard’s experience, most holidays did not involve stumbling blindly through the underbrush of a wild and despicably thorny forest. But to be perfectly fair, Bard had not gone on holiday before.

There was a place in Mirkwood Thranduil had wanted to show him for some time, far from the paths Bard would feel safe travelling alone. It had taken them two day’s ride to reach the spot where Thranduil halted them; they had dismounted to proceed up the steep slope of the forest on foot, beating their way through the bush toward the rocky outcropping above. So far, Bard was not noticing much of a difference between this patch of forest and the long, dark-green miles that had passed before it. But Thranduil had insisted, and in the end Bard was all too happy to indulge him.

It had taken Thranduil much time and effort to convince Bard to take some time from his city. After all, there was still so much to do—the walls needed to be maintained, and there were many petitions that demanded his attention, as well as the question of where to keep livestock—

“You’re awfully quiet back there,” Thranduil called from the ‘path’ ahead. “You aren’t fretting over your city again, are you?”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Bard shot back, though he shook his head ruefully. Thranduil had made him promise not to spend their time together dwelling on his duties, and Bard was nothing if not an honest man. He made a mental note to look into the North courtyard as a goat paddock when he got back, all the same.

 “Is this not better than spending hours poring over trade documents?” Thranduil said over his shoulder as Bard struggled through a thorny shrub.

A branch snapped back and hit Bard in the face. His only reply was a grunt.

Bard focused his attention on the track before him. As lithe and graceful as Thranduil was when it came to moving through the undergrowth, he had his fair share of burs caught in his clothing by the time they stepped onto the overlook. Bard broke free of the trees and nearly stumbled in the open space. The air here was sweet and clean, free of the corruption that lingered in the dark places between the trees. Before them, the forest spread out in all its glory, greens and deep reds and purples mingling in the treetrops, each cluster of trees producing the sound of shrieking birds. A fast wind picked up from the canopy and send a flurry of leaves swirling around their ankles.

Bard turned to Thranduil, catching a glimpse of the fondness on his face as he looked over his forest. It was not an expression Bard saw him wear often. His gaze trailed into Thranduil's hair—suddenly, Bard laughed.

Thranduil looked at him in askance, but Bard held up a hand for him to be still. "You have burs in your hair," Bard explained, reaching out to gently disentangle the pale strands. Thranduil stood patiently, his head bowed slightly as Bard's fingers worked. "I have to say, it's a bit gratifying to see you looking something other than immaculate," Bard commented.

"I must be spending too much time with you," Thranduil murmured with a quiet laugh.

“You must be. I think it’s doing you good.” Bard spoke with an ironic smile as he worked the last of the burs free. He held them in his palm as if weighting their value. “Perhaps you should keep them. Your crown could use some embellishment.”

“My crown is perfectly fine as it is,” Thranduil said. “I would offer them to you instead, but since you are so insistent on not having a crown at all…”

“And insistent I will remain,” Bard said, leaning forward to press a faint kiss to Thranduil’s forehead. “Not even a crown of burs.”

Thranduil sighed, but there was no true exasperation in it. Instead he drew Bard up to the edge of the rocky cliff, settling the two of them down at its lip. Bard shifted so that his feet were hanging out in empty space, feeling it tingling in the soles of his feet. From here the canopy looked like something solid, as if he could step forward and walk across them like dark clouds.

“It is very beautiful,” Bard said with feeling.

Thranduil nodded. “Not many mortals have a chance to see the forest this way. Yet this is how I see it—clean and open and free of corruption, as it once was.”

Bard shifted his hand to cover Thranduil’s. “All corruption fades in time,” he said. “Even now the forest seems kinder than I remember it.”

Thranduil shot Bard a wry smile. “You would call my woods ‘kind’?”

“I would say they are much like you.” Bard squeezed the fingers beneath his own, felt them tighten back in response. “Not always kind, perhaps. Frightening at times. But there is goodness here. I can feel it now.”

“I take you to a beautiful overlook, and you call me mean and frightening. This is the thanks I get?”

Bard chuckled. “This is the thanks you get.” He leaned forward, raising his other hand to the back of Thranduil’s neck and pulling him into a kiss. He let his lips linger, gentle, and he could feel Thranduil’s faint smile even as their lips moved together.

When he pulled back, their noses still gently pressed together, Thranduil’s eyes were still fixed on Bard’s mouth. Even then, he gave a noncommittal shrug. “I still find it rather lacking.”

“Then you will have to accept my gratitude again,” Bard said with a faint laugh, and leaned forward to kiss him again.

 


End file.
